The Marauders and the Rise of Darkness
by T-R-Us
Summary: [Book One] [MWPP] It’s only the Marauders’ first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – but they’re already getting into trouble! With mysterious forces gathering in the Forbidden Forest, will they survive to see second year?
1. Remus at Hogwarts

**Title: **The Marauders and the Rise of Darkness  
**Rating:** T  
**Authoress:** T-R-Us

**Summary:** (Book One)(MWPP) It's only the Marauders' first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – but they're already getting into trouble! With mysterious forces gathering in the Forbidden Forest, will they survive to see second year?

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it.

**Authoress' Notes:** I'm sure it's been done before – but whatever. Hi! I'm T-R-Us, those of you in the HP fandom have likely never read my garbage – work -- before. I wrote two _really_ bad Harry Potter fics a long time ago, but I took them down because they were _that_ bad. Hopefully I've matured enough to reach my eventual goal – write seven fics on the topic of the Marauders. Your input and criticisms would be greatly appreciated, it's always very helpful.  
Also, there _was_ some discrepancy on the matter of "how old exactly the Marauders are", in that I mean their birth year. Fortunately for us, JK cleared this one up, and the Marauders were born in 1960, making their first year at Hogwarts begin September of 1971. (Granted, the year doesn't have _that_ much weight on the plot, but nonetheless.)

xxxxx

**  
August, 1995**

_Harry crept down the stairs of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, sparing a quick glance behind him. Wary of each and every sound his late-night wandering produced, he hopped smoothly over the second last step, recalling its habit of creating a loud and annoying squeak in an entirely different section of the house. Finally, he reached the main landing, and let out the breath he'd been holding in. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to be followed or heard, but more that he did not wish to risk waking the other nine occupants of the house – much less the unsavory creatures in residence. _

_He had taken no more than two steps forward, when he came within view of the old-fashioned sofa in the room across the hall.  
_

_Seated there, back to his former student, was Remus Lupin._

_Harry had almost forgotten that the werewolf was living in the house. He had been there for almost a week, and had not seen his old professor since the night he had arrived - and had certainly not expected to run into him now. From his current vantage point, he couldn't tell if the werewolf was awake or not, but a misplaced step caused one of the floorboards to emit a wrenching groan, and Lupin's head whipped in his direction._

_The Order member blinked once, tiredly, as he looked over the teen. "Harry, it's late, isn't it?" He asked as though unsure, turning forward once again._

_"Yes – I – er – I couldn't sleep."_

_Back still to him, Remus nodded, "You're welcome to join me, if you'd like. Watch you don't sit on Sirius though."_

_A little curious, Harry approached the couch, circling around it until he could again see Remus' face. The werewolf was seated somewhat stiffly, apparently having been reading the Daily Prophet until Harry interrupted. Next to him on the couch, taking up a majority of the space was a large black dog, curled up in what looked to be a peaceful repose._

_"Is he – "_

_"- asleep?" Remus looked up again, this time with a smile. "Yes. Sirius always did have an affinity for couches. I don't think a week ever went by that we didn't find him asleep on the one in the common room at least once." He shifted over slightly, moving away from his friend and creating a space for Harry between them. "What's on your mind? Your expulsion?"_

_The teen nodded, warily. "Yes, actually. Do you – er – do you think it'll – well – "_

_Again, the werewolf replied before Harry could finish. "I don't think Dumbledore would ever let them expel you, Harry. Even so, there are no grounds for them to take such extreme measures on anyway." He paused, then hesitantly patted his former student's knee, "By the way, I'm proud of you. Taking out two dementors."_

_"Thanks."_

_They fell into a companionable silence, interrupted only by the occasional ruffling of pages as Remus flipped through the Daily Prophet,which he'd picked up once again, and the accompaniment of soft whuffings and heavy breathing from Sirius._

_"Was he always such a deep sleeper?"_

_Remus closed his paper and looked over at his best friend, "Yes," he replied, mildly, "James used to say it would take the mating call of a rabid Peruvian Vipertooth to wake him up." He smiled, remembering some long repressed memory. "He fell asleep when he was supposed to be baby-sitting you, once. Your mother was livid."_

_Harry's eyes widened, "Wait – Sirius used to baby-sit me?"_

_The werewolf laughed, "We both did. And if we weren't babysitting, we were at least visiting." He smiled ruefully, "You would be far too young to remember, but for the first year of your life, I don't think any of us wanted to leave your side. I can still remember the first time I held you in my arms, three days after you were born," he broke off, smiling pleasantly. "We were all so proud of every accomplishment you ever made – "_

_"You were a genius, Harry," Sirius had apparently awoken, and now sat next to his godson in his regular form. Slinging an arm around Harry's shoulder, he gave him a squeeze. "I can remember the day you said your very first word. It was Pad—"_

_Remus rolled his eyes, "Don't listen to this idiot, Harry," his normal woodenness melting away, "It was definitely not 'Padfoot'. Your first word was 'no'. And you said it almost constantly."_

_"Well," Sirius was shrugging, "Your second word was Padfoot, anyway."_

_A snort from Remus accompanied his response, "Yes. Right after 'Ma', 'Da' and 'Remus'."_

_Sheepishly, Sirius looked away, "Well, Harry," he was pointedly avoiding Remus' gaze, "I'm sure you would have figured it out before the others, if Moony hadn't been jumping down your throat to teach you his name." His tone was flippant, and as he arrogantly tilted his head upwards, Remus leaned forward and rolled his eyes where Harry could see him. Grinning, Sirius gently pressed his head against his godson's, "James was so proud of you – regardless of what you said. And – ah – you sometimes said some pretty –"_

_"And who's fault was that?" Remus scowled, lightheartedly, "Cursing in front of the baby."_

_Again, Sirius shrugged, and ran his right hand through Harry's thick, black hair, effectively ruffling it. "I don't think he's much the worse for it."_

_Caught between the pair's light bantering, Harry found himself wedged warmly against Sirius' side, his godfather's arm still draped across his shoulders. To his left, Remus sat, slumped against the back of the couch, his newspaper long since discarded. In the middle, Harry found himself feeling safer than he had ever felt before. Safer than when he was in Dumbledore's company, even. It was true that his feelings of anger towards the wizard probably had a hand in it, but next to his godfather and former professor, Harry was more secure than he'd been in years – and his disciplinary hearing had already been forgotten._

_"I've heard some stories… but … do you think you could tell me what it was like?"_ _  
_  
_"What what was like?" Sirius was asking, looking down at him._

_"Being friends with my dad. Being a marauder."_

_"Well," It was Sirius who started, "We weren't friends from the start, except for me and James, we saw each other and knew we were born to do mischief toget –"_

_"I think," Remus had interrupted quietly, his chin resting on his hand, "You'd better let me take this one, Padfoot, old friend. I have a feeling you may have_ forgotten _some of the details." He turned to Harry with a grin, "Although exaggerated seems more likely."_

xxxxx

**September 1****st****, 1970**  
Platform 9 ¾ surged with activity. The stately, scarlet Hogwarts Express chugged puffs of darkened smoke, mingling with the equally black clouds overhead. A sudden heat wave had held London in its grips for almost a fortnight, and with it came the accompaniment of numerous violent thunder storms. More than a few of the wizarding parents glanced at the sky with worry as they saw their children off for the start of another school year.

Standing between his own parents, eleven year old Remus Lupin chewed on his bottom lip worriedly. The approaching storm did not bother him in the least, but the imminent separation from life as he knew it disturbed him greatly. "The train leaves at eleven?" It wasn't so much a question as a nervous statement requesting confirmation.

His mother reached down to kiss him on the cheek, and give him a quick hug. As much as she hated to leave her only son alone, she was in something of a hurry to leave. Being a muggle, just getting onto platform 9 ¾ had been an eye-opening experience. "You don't have to go, you know. You can stay and – "

"No!" Frightened as he was, Remus turned towards the train, as much to examine the Hogwarts coat of arms as to hide his face from his parents. He wheeled back around, holding onto his trunk just a little tighter. "No, I'm going." Nothing could combat the feelings of happiness he had experienced when he received his letter from Dumbledore saying that someone… someone like _him_ would be able to attend the famed wizarding school. He couldn't possibly turn down the chance of a lifetime.

Nearby, he could hear another family's problems, as a girl a little older than himself let loose a cry of irritation. For a moment, Remus considered what it would be like to have had had a sister, then discarded the idea as the already heated argument grew in intensity. "You shouldn't have read – that was my private – how could you?"

Not wanting to listen in on anymore of the conversation, Remus focused on his parents. "Maybe I should think about – " He paused in horror. Had he been about to suggest rethinking his going to Hogwarts? Before he could build on the comment, the train let out a baleful whistle. Liberated, Remus whirled back around, watching as another thick jet of smoke issued from the engine. "I'll write!" He called back, his voice quavering as he clambered in through a compartment door, trunk in tow.

Wandering his way through the long train, he regretted having waited so long to board. All of the compartments looked to be full – and he wasn't especially keen on entering any of them. Dangerously close to the end of the train, he finally found one which was empty. Sliding open the door, he stepped in – not noticing the sleeping form on one of the seats until he had already shut the door behind him. The boy looked like he might be tall if he were standing, his dark hair falling across his face and obscuring it from view. His even breathing told Remus that the boy was most definitely asleep, and he took a seat across from him.

"Have you seen Aoede, yet? She's got the greatest hat!" A trio of female voices were approaching the shut door, and Remus panicked. Not wanting to be stuck conversing with a compartment full of girls, he hurriedly looked across at the other boy – hoping that he might wake up. When the boy grunted slightly and turned the other way, Remus' eyes widened hopefully, however his companion did not wake. Within seconds, the compartment door began to creak open.

"That's it. If this one's full I'm _walking_ to Hogwarts."

Trepidation numbing his senses, Remus thought to imitate the other boy by at least feigning sleep. He threw his head somewhat roughly against the window, wincing from the slight bump it caused, and hurriedly pretended to be napping.

"Ugh, boys – " Started one of the girls Remus had heard approaching.

"Don't you dare, Cassia, there's only two of them, and three of us." The voice paused for a minute, and it occurred to Remus that she was likely scrutinizing him and his companion in the same way he had upon first entering the compartment. "They're asleep, anyway. And every where else is full up."

The third girl's voice was harder to make out, as she shyly whispered, "Corny, I'm sitting on this side." Remus assumed that by this she meant on the side of the seat furthest from him or the other boy. "Aren't you worried they'll wake up?"

The second girl sounded smug now, "Why? They're just _boys_!"

The trio fell into a conversation, apparently concerning the misadventures of another girl, and Remus began to get the impression that all three were very close – sisters, perhaps. His left shoulder was beginning to feel somewhat numb from the awkwardness of pressing it against the window, and he wondered if there was any hope for shifting slightly. Maybe if he groaned just a little and…

One of the girls shrieked.

"In the name of Merlin, Cecilia!" It was the first girl this time, Cassia, and the shrieking immediately stopped. "Would you please get a hold on yourself?"

Cecilia sounded a little guilty as she apologized softly. "I thought he was waking up." Even more sheepishly she added, "I don't understand how you two aren't scared. I mean, the black haired boy looks nice enough – but did you even look at the other one? He looks so – so – "

Inwardly, Remus winced. He knew exactly how he looked, and he knew it had nothing to do with the muggle clothes he was wearing. He could practically feel their eyes roving over him, taking in each detail. His bare arms, he knew, were covered in a thick, interconnecting web of scars. He was sure too, that they could see the thin lines mangling his chin.

"Just be quiet, okay?" It was the second girl again, _Corny_ she had been called, Remus remembered, practically feeling the attention move from him to the other boy. "That dark-haired guy is kind of cute."

There were several giggles of affirmation, and Remus realized that the only thing to do now was try to actually fall asleep. Ten minutes stretched by slowly, the girls having moved on to the more mundane topic of some magical line of cosmetics or another, and Remus found himself slipping into a stupor from the boredom. How the boy across from him managed to maintain his practically unconscious state was appalling – or would be, if Remus hadn't fallen asleep halfway through his annoyed thought.

Several hours later, the boy found himself being shaken awake. Before him was the face of what could only be one of the three girls who had been occupying the compartment. Purple eyes stared down at him with bemusement, framed under a pair of glasses. She was so close that he could hardly see the frizzy blonde hair pulled into a long ponytail at the back of her head beyond the round outline of her face.

"Hey – we're almost at Hogwarts. You should probably put your robes on."

He noticed that she already had, and that just behind her – his field of vision increased once she backed away – one of the other girls, a lighter blonde, was shaking the other boy awake. "Hey – " she turned to him, "I think your friend's dead."

Remus bit back his reply of, 'he's not my friend', and stepped forward somewhat concernedly. "He's – what?"

"Oh, I'm just joshing you and all that," she grinned, and he couldn't help but notice her vivid green eyes as she did so. "I'm sure he's fine. Want to give a hand though?"

Stepping forward, he poked the boy with his index finger, grimacing. "I don't actually know him, it's just that it was the only empty compartment and – "

"Oh, bugger." The girl who had woken him up pulled out her wand, and the boy couldn't help but notice that the other two girls stiffened somewhat and took a few steps back. Sticking the device under the other boy's ear, she made a flicking motion with her wrist – and the wand emitted a high-pitched squealing sound. She turned back to Remus apologetically and shouted over the noise, "Sorry, it's the only magic I've managed since mum got me my wand." She shrugged and returned to her task.

It took several tries to get him awake, during which Remus pulled his black robes on over his clothes.

"There we are!"

The boy had begun to stir, swatting first at the wand and then opening a pair of soft, brown eyes. "Where'd you lot come from?"

The girl grinned, "You've been asleep. We're almost at Hogwarts now."

He blinked, scratching his thick, dark hair in confusion. Remus suspected that he was wondering how he could have slept for so long. "Well – thanks, I guess. For waking me up."

"Anytime. I'm Cornelia, by the way, Cornelia Houdini." She grinned again from behind her glasses, tossing the frizzy ponytail. "These are my sisters," with a sweeping hand gesture she motioned to the other blonde girl, and a shy-looking brunette on the other side of the compartment. "We're the Houdini triplets. That's Cassia – " the blonde smiled – "and Cecilia."

"Goodwin Perkins," the other boy offered. His smile seemed to brighten the compartment somewhat, and there was genuine happiness in the carefree way he stretched out his lanky limbs. "Headed for Gryffindor, hopefully."

"Remus Lupin," Remus supplied, "Anywhere but Hufflepuff."

Goodwin laughed and slapped Remus on the back, jovially

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time," echoed a voice, magically amplified throughout the train, "Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Goodwin grinned, and turned away, reaching up to grab his trunk from the overhead rack, and then swing it down onto his seat. Pulling out the black work robes folded at the top, he slammed the lid back down with a firm 'thud'.

"Neat packer?" One of the triplets asked, having caught a good look at the organized insides of his trunk.

"Nope, my mum is." He grunted in reply, heaving the trunk back onto the rack, "Can't stand mess." As he spoke, the sound of gears grinding down indicated that the Hogwarts Express was slowing.

"I guess we're here," Cornelia beamed, "It was very nice meeting you both, Remus, Goodwin," she smiled again, and in a moment all three of the girls were swept away, into the flood of students hurrying through the crowded train.

Taking her lead, Remus nodded at Goodwin, and left the compartment.

The flurry of students outside at Hogsmeade Station was immense, although Remus knew from his father that there were generally no more than 280 students ever enrolled at Hogwarts in any given year. Clenching his fists until his knuckles were a pale white color, Remus edged his way past his fellow students. Unused to crowds, he sidled between as many people as possible, until he was at the edge of the group, his back practically pressed to a tree.

The majority of the students appeared to be converging at a nearby road, but he could see what looked like one of the three Houdini triplets, speaking with a bespectacled first year boy, and standing next to – a giant.

The man, Remus assumed it was a man, given that he had a terribly thick mane of black hair and an equally wild beard, was standing no more than five feet away, although he must have been twice that in height. In one of his equally large hands was a lantern, which he held up, casting a dim light across the station. "Anymore firs' years?" He yelled, and Remus hurried over to him. "Yeh're the last o' them, then?"

Staring up at the figure in awe, Remus nodded.

"All righ'! Just' down this way," he motioned towards a narrow downward sloping path, and Remus noticed that he was not the only one somewhat wary about this particular venture. "S'not far, now, keep up." The man seemed completely unfazed by the slippery, mud-covered track that he was leading the group down. Remus saw more than one person trip over the journey, but no one seemed to have fallen completely. Remus found even himself bumped about, crashing into the rounder boy in front of him, who had stumbled.

However, the disastrous trek ended with a breath-taking view of the castle.

Ahead of them, Hogwarts twinkled in the distance across a vast lake. There were no stars in the sky, as the dark clouds which had threatened to burst several hours before in London seemed to have followed the train all the way to the magical school, but Remus didn't mind the cloud cover. _This_, was what every thing was for, he knew.

A few feet ahead, several boats were anchored upon the sandy shore in front of them. The man called out "four to a boat", and Remus found himself part of the scramble to find a seat. There was no shortage of accommodations, but the boat he had clambered into was already mostly full – and again he found himself face to face with one of the Houdini triplets.

"Hi Remus!" It was Cassia who spoke this time, her straight, blonde hair floating on the soft breeze which blew across the lake, "Isn't it beautiful?"

He looked up at the castle in appreciation, and nodded.

xxxxx

"Welcome to Hogwarts," after the short boat ride, the first years had finally arrived at the castle, now to be greeted by a severe-looking witch who had introduced herself as Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will be beginning shortly, but before you may take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses." She went on to explain the importance of the school's house point system, and soon disappeared, stating she would return when it was time for the sorting.

Remus was not nervous. Not yet, anyway. Chilled, he looked at those around him. The Houdini triplets were conversing with a red-headed first year girl, and Goodwin was near the back of the group, speaking with the bespectacled boy Remus had seen earlier, as well as another dark-haired first year. Remus considered joining them, when the boy he had stumbled into on the way to the boats poked him in the arm.

"Hallo! I'm sorry about tripping you up back there," he smiled somewhat timidly, and Remus realized it must have taken a staunch mustering of courage for the boy to speak up. "I'm Pettigrew, by the way." He winced, and looked like he wanted to kick himself, "_Peter_," he remedied, "_Peter _Pettigrew."

Remus nodded, smiling faintly. "Remus Lupin."

"Do you know which house you want to get into?" He seemed to have become much more comfortable with himself now that he knew Remus' name. "I fancy being a Gryffindor, but my mum says not to get my hopes up – she was a Hufflepuff. Same for my dad."

"My father didn't go to Hogwarts," he shrugged, "He's French."

"Oh," Peter seemed unfazed by this information, but continued to press on. "And your mum?"

"She's a muggle." His voice lowered somewhat, but not with shame. He was rather proud of his mother, magical or not, but knew better than to announce it to so many around him. His own father had faced challenges with having the relationship, and Remus knew that the prejudices were not simply French or British.

What Peter had to say about this information, however, went unsaid as McGonagall had returned. The nervous chatter which had sprung up was silenced as she directed the first years into a line, and then into the Great Hall.

Remus had never seen a room so large in his entire life, and the closest he had ever come was the entrance hall the group had just left. The ceiling overhead may as well have been the sky itself, it was so vast. Bewitched to look like the real cloudy sky outside, Remus thought he could see flashes of lightning within the room itself. Four long tables were filled with people, and again Remus had to remind himself that there were never more than a couple hundred students. In front of him was another long table, this one, he realized, seated the school's staff.

There in the center was the graying wizard who he knew to be Albus Dumbledore, who had been kind enough to allow Remus the chance to go to the school. The wizard looked a little frightening from his first year frame of mind, but he told himself that the first opportunity he got, he would thank the man in person.

"This way please," The professor directed the first years' attention to a four-legged stool which must have been placed as Remus was examining the hall. Upon it rested the dirtiest pointed hat Remus had ever seen, and his father had quite a collection. There was a long moment of silence, during which he noted that even the students at their tables had fallen silent and were staring at the hat.

It twitched.

Remus blinked. It wasn't impossible, but why --

It twitched for the second time, and a long rip opened as though it were a mouth, while the tip bent forward, creating wrinkles in the fabric that could very well have been eyes if you squinted while looking at it. Then the hat began to speak.

'_Welcome students, old and new,  
To this ancient, stately school.  
I shall keep this short and sweet,  
So you won't have to drool.  
For I am the Sorting Hat, you see,  
Ripped and torn and ugly,  
But I shall divide you into your house,  
Just put me on, and you'll look lovely!  
First, good old Gryffindor,  
Always brave of heart.  
From him his many loyal friends,  
__Never sought to part .  
Then there's humble Hufflepuff,  
The most patient of them all.  
Hardworking, yes, and honest too,  
Ready to answer any friend's call.  
Next comes Rowena Ravenclaw,  
__Whose mind was sharp and witty.  
She was the smartest of the four,  
Her passing was quite a pity.  
But worry not, there's one more still,  
Salazar Slytherin is his name.  
He values those pure-blooded folk,  
Those cunning and seeking out fame.  
So let the sorting now begin,  
My song has found its end.  
Don't ponder on which house to choose,  
A helping hand, I'll lend.'_

The students burst into applause, and Remus found himself clapping politely along – however, _now_ he was nervous. The four houses all seemed to be decided by personality and character. What if the hat couldn't sort him? What if it looked into his head and found the beast that Remus had struggled to control for years?

With a roll of parchment in her hands, Professor McGonagall stepped forward once more, and indicated that "Aston, Summanus" should sit upon the stool with the hat on his head. There was a moment of hesitation, where the first years stared at Summanus and the hat expectantly, before the hat finally called out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Cheers erupted from the Hufflepuff table, bedecked in yellow and gold, and the next student was ushered forward as Summanus moved to join his new house.

Remus' heart pounded in his chest, what would the hat say? Would it announce his secret to every one in the hall? He gazed around at the students in terror, he could see it now. They would leap forward and attack him, he'd be dead before he even realized what was happening.

"Black, Sirius."

Remus looked up from his inner turmoil long enough to watch the boy accept the hat, and after long moments of what must have been deliberation on the hat's part, was announced to be "GRYFFINDOR!"

Sirius smiled wryly, and took his place among the cheering Gryffindors, but Remus looked down at his hands before he noticed the triumphant smile that was flashed at several booing Slytherins.

Remus' frightened thoughts continued as the Houdini triplets were sorted, the bold Cornelia going to Gryffindor, Cassia to Ravenclaw, and the timid Cecilia disappearing amid a group of applauding Hufflepuffs. Remus stiffened now. They were H's, and he was an L. Only three letters between the two – it was getting closer and closer, now.

There were exactly three people separating Remus from his sorting.

"Jaxon, Haywood," a brawny looking first year stepped forward, a bright grin spread on his face, a grin which faltered slightly as moments later he joined the Hufflepuff table.

"Kastner, Tilda," sweet-faced and short, quickly became a Slytherin.

"Livesay, Faith," nervously approached the hat, eying it warily before pulling it onto her head. There was another lengthy pause, one which Remus attributed to the hat needing to think carefully about the sorting. _L!_ He screamed at himself, internally, _She's an L! _In another moment, she was a Ravenclaw.

"Lupin, Remus."

Remus had never felt smaller in his entire life. The distance between him and the hat seemed to stretch on for eternity, and he just _knew_ he was walking to his death. Finally, he reached the stool and sat down, his arms trembling as he lifted the hat to his head. He could hear its voice in his mind, as though deliberating – but the words were completely lost to him as the hat soon screamed out, "WEREWOLF!"

There was an eruption of noise, and Remus closed his eyes. This was it. It was over.

"Mr. Lupin, would you please join your house table?"

His eyes opened – involuntarily – and he found himself looking up at Professor McGonagall, who it seemed was staring at him as though he had three heads. The noise was coming from the Gryffindor table, and Remus realized that that was what the hat had said. _Gryffindor_.

_Not_ 'werewolf'.

He had never been more relieved in his entire life.

**Closing Comments:**  
A little bit of a short introduction from our beloved Remus and Sirius. I don't know why I included it, maybe I just wanted to put those thoughts out there without writing a whole new fic. I toyed with my ideas when it came to how I wanted to start the Marauders' story. Originally the idea was to begin with their letters – but that would involve frequent changes in perspective between the four homes, so I opted for the first place they'd all be together – the Hogwarts Express. (Although another of my initial thoughts had been for the full moon to fall on the evening of September 1st, and have Remus arrive later – but clearly this was not the case. Actually, I base all of Remus' transformations on the factual lunar event of the year – so maybe the years _do_ matter (see Authoress' Note, above). At any rate, in September of 1971, the full moon was on September 5th. So there you go.)  
So many things to say about this chapter, lol. I read a fic at one point where Remus had quite a large family and they were all French. I liked the idea of a French heritage – although I don't really believe that "Lupin" is a very cultural name – and chose to imply that his father _probably_ went to Beauxbatons. Also – a good friend wrote the Sorting Hat song for me, in less than forty minutes. Quite a feat, for which I am very grateful. (You do _not_ want to hear what I came up with.)  
Hmph, I didn't realize that the first student sorted in the Philosopher's Stone was also a Hufflepuff, but that's how it is. I have a rather long list of the students in the Marauders year, (and their houses), and simply alphabetized. What a shocking coincidence.

As a final closing comment – jeez there were a lot, weren't there? – this chapter was _very_ Remus-centric. One, he's one of my favorite characters, and two, I felt that his eyes were a good way to see Hogwarts through for the first time. Since James and Sirius are both all "pshaw, I pwn Hogwarts!" and Peter's rather "OMG! A brick! In the wall! Run! Hide! Scurry!" Not all of the chapters will be so singularly focused, but if you paid attention, I bet you noticed all of the Marauders _and _Lily somewhere. (Although some are clearly more easily spot than others.) Thanks for reading – see you in chapter two!


	2. First of Term

**Authoress' Notes: **Lalala, thank you, wonderful reviewers for commenting on the first chapter of RoD. (And shame to the hundred-so readers who contributed to the hit count but did not leave anything for me to remember them by.) And now, welcome to chapter two!  
A few notes before we begin…  
1. I made up a time table for the first year Gryffs. It may or may not fit directly with canon, but evidently that doesn't matter.  
2. _Yes_, Goodwin _is_ a Marty Stu. I am aware of this. _And_ it's intentional. You'll see why…

Enjoy!

**Chapter Two: "First of Term"**

James Potter was not a morning person. As he lifted his head tiredly from his pillow, he realized almost immediately that he did not have the faintest idea where he was. His vision swam with a combination of morning blurriness and his own generally poor eyesight, as he reached out instinctively to the right to grab his glasses. Wincing when his wrist connected painfully with the hard wood of the end table, his hand continued to grope blindly until questing fingers finally enclosed around the arm of his glasses, and he pulled them on, hurriedly.

The drafty room looked nothing like his bedroom at home. Gone were the Quidditch posters, and the photographs tacked to the walls. Although he could have managed to convince himself that his mother had simply gotten fed up with the permanent sticking charm used to keep his walls from becoming too bare, the circular shape of the room itself could not be explained away - not to mention the presence of four other people.

Hogwarts.

Gryffindor.

Right.

Blinking, he sat up. There was not much to recall from the night previous. In fact, aside from eating dinner in the Great Hall, he could scarcely remember how he had even managed to make it _to_ the Gryffindor common room. Somewhere, a memory deeply repressed by sleep and a full stomach brought up images of seven floors worth of stairs and then some.

A little more than slightly nauseous, he spared a lingering glance around the dormitory. All five of the beds in the room were lined with red velvet curtains, but not a one of his fellow Gryffindors had pulled them closed. Looking at them all now, he realized that despite having met them only hours before, he could scarcely remember their names.

In the bed to his right, clothing and parchment piled high around him on the floor, slept the boy James had shared a compartment with on the train. From his vantage point, he had a scant view of dark hair tucked under the covers, the blankets having been pulled up practically over his head – Sirius, his foggy memories reminded him. From their meeting on the Hogwarts Express, it had not taken long to discover that aside from a shared interest in causing mischief, the pair had little in common.

Sirius did not care about Quidditch.

And he didn't collect Chocolate Frog Cards.

James wasn't about to waste any time trying to befriend him.

The boy in the middle bed, James was sure, had spoken no more than a brief two words of introduction before settling in to unpack. He had carefully taken the time to sort out the contents of his trunk, set out several sheaves of parchment, quills and an ink bottle, and paste a calendar to the wall above his headboard, before succumbing to sleep.

There were two other boys in the first-year dormitory. The fatter boy on the opposite side of the room from James' bed had been practically clinging to the other as they entered, and James had made no move to introduce himself to _him_. The last, however, had made a point of trying to befriend every one: Goodwin Perkins. Now _there_ was someone James could be friends with.

Somewhere in the room, an alarm began to buzz irritatingly, drawing James out of his scrutiny. As seconds passed, the buzz grew louder and more insistent, and he wished whoever owned it would hurry up and shut it off.

"What time is it?" The voice was coarse, the speaker not quite awake as he groggily sat up in the bed on the right.

James opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, another voice answered the question, "Too early."

"Actually," this was Goodwin's confident drawl as he flipped the alarm off, "It's a quarter to nine."

Suddenly the dormitory was a flurry of motion as the five boys, now fully awake, leapt to their feet. From across the room, James could see Goodwin catapulting off of his bed, and grabbing the alarm in disbelief. "But I set it!" He was exclaiming, frantically, "I set it for a quarter to _eight_!" In a moment, he had dropped the device, and with a curse barreled out of the dormitory room. He reappeared mere seconds later, having bounded down and up the circular stairway at breakneck speed. "Every one's gone!"

The words were all the catalyst that the Gyrffindors needed, and they leapt into action, hurriedly pulling on robes and digging around for school bags. James soon found himself elbow to elbow with Sirius, as both searched for wayward wands. "Got it," came the triumphant yell from each, who after quick inspection wordlessly exchanged a glance and traded wands. Remus was the first dressed and ready to go, but instead of rushing out of the dormitory as James expected him to, he stood by the door, waiting.

"Our first class is in ten minutes!" The fat kid was the most alarmed, and in his haste had effectively pulled his school robes on backwards, and was now struggling with his Gryffindor tie.

"Yeah," Sirius himself was having trouble knotting his own, "But _what_ is our first class?"

"Charms, maybe?" The first speaker put in hopefully, having now successfully fixed his clothing.

Sirius simply shrugged, not particularly caring about which class it was, and chose to leave his tie hanging limply around his neck.

With their bags hanging haphazardly off of their shoulders, the group raced down the circular stone staircase, bumping and tumbling into one another in their hurry to make it to the bottom. As they scrambled through the empty common room and out the portrait hole, Goodwin halted. "We were supposed to get our time tables during _breakfast_."

Remus blinked, and reached into his bag, pulling out a neat piece of parchment. "I have mine here, actually. Professor McGonagall gave it to me last night."

"And we're lucky she did," Goodwin put in, leaning over his shoulder to examine the page. "Why didn't you speak up about it sooner?"

The thinner boy shrugged, looking embarrassed, while James pulled the time table out of his hands.

"Brilliant," he gazed down at it, his eyes trailing across the chart, "Monday. Nine o'clock. Transfigurations!"

"_Seven minutes_!" The fatter boy was whining, bouncing irritatedly on the balls of his feet. "Where _is _it?"

"Doesn't say," James looked around, almost as if expecting a map to appear. Next to him, Remus seemed worried about the prospect of missing his first class, but James was sure that Sirius, standing off to the side and putting forth one last feeble attempt to tie his tie, could care less.

"We'll have to – " Goodwin began, but James cut him off unhesitantly, as he pointed down the stairs.

"It can't be any higher than Gryffindor Tower, we'll have to go down." As he began leading the group forward, pleased that he had managed to reassert his position as leader, he stopped in front of one of the many portraits along the walls of the stairway. "Hey, you – " he pointed to the sophisticated looking wizard in the frame, who looked up from the book he was reading and scowled in annoyance. "Where's the Transfigurations classroom?"

"_Excuse me?_" The wizard sneered in disbelief, asking in a beleaguered tone, "Did you just refer to me as 'hey, you'?"

James rolled his eyes, but a quick look at the admiration shining in the fatter boy's face pushed him to keep up the flippant act, "Yeah. Yeah, I think I did."

"You heard him," Sirius cut in, grinning, "So are you going to tell us how to get to this class, or not?"

Apparently sensing that his cause was as lost as that of Sirius' tie, which hung loosely around the collar of his shirt, the wizard pointed airily down the stairs. "Fifth floor, across from the statue of Porpentina and her kneazles." With that, he walked into a nearby frame and made a point of ignoring the group.

"The fifth floor?" Remus looked skeptically down at the moving stairs, the fifth floor appeared to be a surprisingly long distance from where they stood. His father had once told him that Hogwarts had a hundred and forty-two staircases – despite having never attended the British school himself, Théophile Lupin had become a huge fan of every thing Hogwarts-related – and it looked as though at least a hundred of them were between the Gryffindors and their destination. "Can we make it down in five minutes?"

"_Four_," the fat boy was whining again, "_Four_ minutes."

This time it was Goodwin who proposed a solution. "We'll just have to go at it fast, won't we?" Crossing the stairs to the rail, he lifted a leg and straddled it. Holding tightly to the marble, he turned to look at his dorm-mates. With a bright, confident grin, he let go – and began to hurl downwards at a breakneck speed.

It seemed to James that the stairs themselves were mad at Goodwin's brazenness, and were determined to see him slide clear off the edge. He had just made up his mind not to follow, when he noticed the adoring look that the fat boy had given him being made in Goodwin's direction, and that was all the persuasion he needed. "Let's goooooooo!" His voice echoed, as he picked up speed, sliding down the railing.

He very nearly fell on his face when a hand shot out and grabbed his arm, just as he was about to soar past the fifth floor landing.

"Glad you made it, mate," Goodwin was beaming at him, and looking up the stairs as Sirius, and then Remus followed in the same way. "We should make a habit out of this. Could sleep in all the time."

"I think not," Remus was panting slightly, and James noticed that his hands were trembling.

"We Gryffindors go in style," Goodwin then announced, as though this should persuade him. "Hey – where's the other boy? Peter?"

The question was answered by an out-of-breath voice calling from at least a hundred feet above them, "I'm coming! You go on ahead! I'll be right there, just going to walk down normal-like."

With exchanged grins, the other four Gryffindor first-years trotted off in the direction of the nearby Porpentina statue – and their Transfigurations class.

xxxxx

Transfigurations, as it turned out, was much more difficult than anyone had thought. After the astounding presentation of turning Cecilia Houdini's desk into a pile of cinder blocks built to resemble a giraffe, the austere Professor McGonagall began the class with a forty minute lecture on the principles of magical transfiguration. After the frantic flurry of the students' quills struggling to take down her speech word for word ended, she set the first years the task of changing a sewing needle into a match.

Between the combined first year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, not a single student was successful in transfiguring their needle, (although Peter, when he finally showed up for class _did_ manage to use his to set a red-headed Gryffindor girl's hair on fire, purely on accident. Once the professor had set it out and put the class back to rights, James announced that "fire looked good on her, as it matched her hair," earning a sharp glare from the girl in return.)

"I suppose she must have thought you were insulting her, mate. Birds are funny like that." Sirius shrugged as he walked backwards out of the classroom, facing Goodwin and James. "It _was_ funny, though."

James merely shrugged. "What do we have next?"

From behind him, Remus, having reclaimed his time table earlier, announced, "Charms," and Peter did a little jig and gave a small whoop as they made their way to Professor Flitwick's classroom on the third floor.

xxxxx

By supper that evening, the fivesome had faced their first Transfigurations, Charms, Potions and History of Magic classes. Unsurprisingly, they had each struggled under the work load, and were glad to sit down to dinner. James was eagerly digging into his steak and kidney pie, while across the table, Sirius none-too-politely scarfed down a Cornish pastie. Peter was doing little more than picking at his own plate, and both Remus and Goodwin had shied out of coming down to eat.

Remus looked exhausted.

Goodwin claimed he had "things to do".

"What do you suppose he could have had to do on the first day?" Sirius' mouth was full of half-chewed chips, muffling his speech.

"Dunno," James was surprised at how quickly a camaraderie had sprung up between his dorm-mates. Sirius and Goodwin were both surprisingly able allies, and the trio had spent a good portion of their History of Magic class passing notes detailing elaborate pranking plans. (Not a one of them felt guilty once they realized just how boring Professor Binns' lecturing style was.)

"Who's that, do you reckon?" Sirius had swallowed, and now wiped his arm sloppily across his mouth.

James followed his gaze up to the young man sitting at the staff table. He looked to be in his late thirties, and based solely on the amount of twittering coming from the girls at the Gryffindor table, was considerably attractive. Next to Professor Slughorn, the potions master, he looked incredibly fit and at least a head taller. "A professor?"

"No kidding."

"That's Professor Belecost," a third year had overheard the conversation, "He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. New this year," she giggled, "But then all the D.A.D.A. teachers are new. I had him today – excellent class. Bertha Jorkins, by the way," she extended a hand, and instead of waiting to shake either James' or Sirius', she turned away, still gazing up at the professor dreamily.

At this, Sirius simply shrugged. "I guess it must be a good class – if you're a bird. And that one?" He nodded his head at a haggard-looking wizard, who's robes appeared torn in numerous places.

"Oh, that's Professor Kettleburn," James supplied, his eyes lingering on the fatigued teacher, "He's Care of Magical Creatures." He shot Sirius a side-long glance, "Didn't you say you had family already at Hogwarts?"

Sirius side-stepped this, "Didn't _you_ say you had muggle itching powder?"

Ignoring this sudden change of subject, James broke into a grin, "Yeah. I bought it in London. Lots of other good muggle prank items, too. Fake vomit, invisible chalk. The usual things, without the magic."

This earned another shrug from Sirius, "Let's try them out as they are first, and then see if we can improve them." He blinked, and announced as if he'd noticed for the first time, "Hey – Goodwin's not here, I say we put some of that itching powder in his robes and see what happens tomorrow morning."

James' grin grew wider. It was weird to have a co-conspirator, especially one who openly disavowed Quidditch – but he knew that this was a valuable ally.

With their dinner finished, the pair scrambled up off of the benches, making their way back up to Gryffindor Tower, Peter having long since been forgotten.

In a sudden burst of trust and excitement, James announced that he "had another great thing, too," and looked at his friend for approval. "It's a sort of family heirloom."

Sirius sniffed, uninterested by this information. In his family, heirlooms came in all shapes and sizes – and were absolutely every where. "Can't be so great if it's your Aunt Edith's old brooch."

James smiled crookedly, "Aunt Edith was quite an upstanding witch, you know. No, it's much better than that."

When they reached the Gryffindor common room, they realized that despite the number of people still eating in the Great Hall downstairs, the room was packed. The seventh, sixth and third years all looked especially harassed with what had apparently been an arduous assignment of homework in each of their classes. Both Sirius and James had managed to escape the day with nothing but an instruction to practice charms – something neither intended to do.

As they passed one of the many occupied armchairs on their way up to the dormitory, the red-haired girl who James had inadvertently insulted, sniffed and looked away, resuming a rather forced sounding conversation with one of the Houdini Triplets. Sirius shot James a knowing grin, and they went by without a word.

Once up in their dormitory, Goodwin's absence was noted, but disregarded. While Remus was asleep, one hand clutching a piece of parchment that looked like it might be the beginnings of a letter, the other Gryffindor was nowhere to be seen. James brushed the knowledge aside, assuming that perhaps he had taken a trip to the library.

"So what's this great heirloom you've got to show me?" Sirius threw himself onto James' bed, making no attempt to keep quiet. Despite this obvious disregard for Remus, the boy's eyes didn't so much as flutter, let alone open. Satisfied that it would take much more than a conversation with James to wake the Gryffindor, Sirius watched as his new friend threw back the lid of his trunk, and began to rummage through it.

"It's in here somewhere…"

As he waited, Sirius ripped his striped Gryffindor tie off, it having been corrected by Professor McGonagall within moments of entering her classroom. It soared haphazardly across the room in the general direction of Goodwin's bed, and Sirius looked down at the pile of clothing that surrounded James'. "It better be good, I could fall asleep right here."

His friend grinned, and good-naturedly shoved Sirius off his bed, "I found it."

Scrambling up off the floor, Sirius rested his elbows against the edge of the bed, leaning forward with sudden interest as he examined the silvery thing in James' hands. Closer inspection revealed that it wasn't so interesting after all. "Nice cloak, James," he grumbled, somewhat disappointed with this development, "Height of fashion, I'm sure."

"You bet," James gripped the shining edges of the cloak, and whirled it around his shoulders. He had disappeared entirely.

Sirius' mouth widened with astonishment, and then slowly turned into a grin of sheer excitement. He reached forward, his hand smacking James in the shoulder. "That's not an invisibility cloak, is it?"

"It is," James had pulled it off and reappeared. "Better than Aunt Edith's brooch, wouldn't you say?"

"Only a lot!" Sirius grabbed the cloak, throwing it over an arm and beaming as it disappeared, "We could have a lot of fun with this!"

"I used to use it to sneak out when my mother was throwing garden parties," James confessed, "Nothing worse than a garden party: 'congratulations! Your fanged geraniums bloomed'!"

Pensively, Sirius considered how useful the cloak could be in his own home. "Do you know where it came from?"

"Nope. Belonged to my dad, who got it from his dad, who got it from an uncle, and so on," he shrugged. "Pretty great thing to inherit, though. Excellent birthday gift, I must say."

"Want to try it out here?"

"What, both of us?" James was skeptical. He had never taken someone else under the cloak with him before, the only other living thing that he'd shared it with was just a crup he'd once tried to sneak into the house.

"Sure. We can go for a late-night stroll around the school." Sirius paused, thinking about the possibilities. "Probably better if we wait a bit though, to let the common room clear ou –"

"Hey, James! Guess what!" Peter had evidently returned from dinner, and Sirius and James combined their efforts to hurriedly thrust the cloak under James' pillows. "When I gave the lady in the portrait the password to get into the common room, she told me that that wizard in the picture you asked for directions this morning told every one! And now you're like a hero or something!"

James and Sirius exchanged a glance, as the former asked warily, "What do you mean, a hero?"

"Well done then, James," Sirius clapped him on the shoulder, grinning mischievously. "You're the new Hero of Hogwarts! You should get a badge – and perhaps your own dormitory. I can't imagine you want to share with the likes of – "

"Shut up." James threw his pillow at him, realizing too late that he had exposed the cloak to Peter's view.

"Wow, what's that, James?"

He froze. It was one thing to tell Sirius about the cloak, and Goodwin – who he intended to show it to once the boy returned from wherever he had gone – but Peter was nothing more than a tag-along. James would incinerate the cloak before he showed it to him. "Just an old cloak. It was my – er – Aunt Edith's. I don't know how it got packed in the first place. I'm going to send it home tomorrow."

"Oh." Peter was crest-fallen. "Anyway, all the portraits are talking about you! They have some sort of name for you… oh, I've forgotten what it is… want me to go find out?"

"Yes!" Both Sirius and James had spoken up simultaneously, and Sirius practically pushed Peter in the direction of the door to the dormitory.

"Yes," he said, "Go find out what we're supposed to be calling James these days. We'll be right here."

The moment Peter was gone, James wordlessly held up the cloak, and within moments the pair had slipped underneath it, disappearing entirely.

"Think it covers all of us?"

"Just about."

xxxxx

As it turned out, there had been no chance for James and Sirius to slip out unnoticed. At midnight, after having baffled Peter with their disappearing act, as well as Goodwin who returned to the dormitory to notice two of his dorm-mates missing, the common room was still full of third years struggling with an apparently excruciatingly difficult essay set by the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, Professor Belecost, on the aggressive state of a werewolf's mind during the full moon.

There had been no use for the cloak either during the following day, when Professor Sprout assigned the Gryffindors a trying paper on the "importance of Herbology to the modern day wizard," as an introductory assignment.

By Wednesday, the Gryffindors had had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Despite a reputation for lengthy homework assignments, Professor Belecost's first lesson had been much more bearable than any of their other classes. His devil may care attitude and anecdotes about expeditions to far-off countries reinstated Sirius and James' desire to experiment with the cloak – but that evening was their first Astronomy lesson, at midnight in Hogwarts' highest tower.

On Thursday, however, the pair finally got their chance. After a particularly trying History of Magic class, the two went straight to the dormitory to retrieve the cloak. Instead of going down to dinner, they had decided earlier to give it a trial run. By following various students from other houses around while waiting for night to fall, they soon knew that the cloak worked just as well with two people as one, and also exactly how to get into the common rooms of both Hufflepuff and Slytherin, when on their way up towards Ravenclaw Tower, they noticed that the full moon had risen.

"Think it's a good time to head out, now?" Sirius whispered, watching as the Ravenclaw second year they had been trailing disappeared around a corner.

"Yeah. Where should we go? We've been inside for hours," James' feet hurt from having traveled both down to the dungeons and now up into the higher towers, but he wasn't ready to call it quits just yet. "Let's go out onto the grounds. I want to see the Quidditch pitch."

Sirius rolled his eyes at this, "Who cares about that? Let's go out and see the forest."

Somewhat annoyed at the blatant poke of criticism at his favorite sport, James was still up for the excursion. As they made their way back down to the Entrance Hall, an idea sparked in his head, and continued to worry at him until he mentioned it to Sirius. "You know, we could really use a map to this school."

"A map?" Sirius was skeptical, "What for?"

"To see where we're going? I bet we could map the school in a couple weeks."

Sirius snorted. "A couple weeks? A couple of years sounds more like it."

James shrugged, but the idea didn't leave even as he fell silent and they, having reached the Entrance Hall, crossed the grounds in the direction of the forest. They had just arrived at the tree line, when James opened his mouth to bring up the subject again, but Sirius stomped on his foot, effectively quieting him.

"What was _that_ for?"

"Shut up, don't you hear it?"

"Hear what?" James strained his ears, but all he could hear was the rustle of leaves, and then the sudden full-pitched howling of what sounded like a wolf somewhere far off.

"Was that - ?"

"_No!_"

"Then what - ?"

"_Shut up!_"

They stood frozen in silence for what felt like an eternity, the cloak billowing around their feet in the soft breeze, until a faint rev of a motor from somewhere in the distance echoed quietly through the air.

"_That_. Did you hear it?"

James nodded enthusiastically, "It sounded like a --"

"—a motorbike, yeah!" Sirius was beaming, "But what would a muggle motorbike be doing at Hogwarts?" Despite the fact that the thing was very much a muggle device, both boys had been fairly impressed with the idea.

"Shh, someone's coming." They backed away from the edge of the forest, again falling silent as they watched a dark form appear from within the darkness. He was rather tall, with dark hair falling into his slightly unshaven face. The man didn't spare them a glance, of course, and began on his way up to the castle, a slight swagger visible in his stride.

"That," James breathed, impressed, "was Professor Belecost. Wonder what he was doing in _there_."

"Well, you know there's only one way to see what he was up to."

James' reply was a grin.

**Closing Comments:** Hm. I don't know why I chose the opening that I did, what with the whole "OMG, we're late!" deal. In fact, when I found what I had written in my notebook, the bottom of the page was accompanied with a large scrawl that read – "take different approach, this quite sucks". Oh well. Here it is, now. (Besides, it made sense to me for the whole dorm to be late. Remus is four days from the full moon, and Sirius, James and Goodwin are all spoiled little berks who probably never had to get up early a day in their life. Home-schooling and what-not.) Ohhhh, also – I'm basically relying on the films for what Hogwarts (and the uniforms, obviously) look like. I'm keeping the book-facts – Gryffindor Tower's on the seventh floor – but adding the style of the movies to make my life easier. Yay! Going with this, the location of the Transfiguration classrooms isn't identified. So I put it on the fifth floor, because there wasn't a heck of a lot going on there.  
Onto a plot point – so, is it _too_ Philosopher's Stone? I didn't realize until just as I'd written the end how very similar to HP1 it must seem. But I assure you, while Professor Belecost's doings in the Forbidden Forest are somewhat mysterious, he definitely does not have the Dark Lord attached to the back of his head. (Or any other body part.) Thoughts?


	3. Questions & Warnings

**Authoress' Notes:** Well, we've made it to the third chapter of RoD. In my opinion, the third chapter is the hardest to write, and can thus make or break a story. In part one, you get a nice introduction to the world, and then in part two, you really get to meet the characters. Now, however, we've ventured into the nitty gritty of plot land. In light of this, I want to thank all of you wonderful people who have been so generous with your reviews and story alerts. You people are my heroes.

I have been so thrilled with the response to this story, that I'm offering all of you the chance to have a character write-in. As we know, Hogwarts is _full_ of people – or as Remus would remind us, 280 students. With the exception of the forty eleven-year olds making up the Marauders' year, and a handful of canon characters floating about, like Lucius Malfoy and Bertha Jorkins, there are hundreds of spaces for all of you wonderful people. So I offer you this – when you review, add an additional six words to the end, with a character name, their gender, House, year and one word to describe them. (I'm looking for something handy; "flirtatious", "bubbly", "cynical", "social", etc. Avoid things like "lovable" and "angsty", they're overdone and _boring_.)

Of the characters submitted, I will **randomly** choose one and give them a cameo appearance in the next chapter – and possibly later chapters as well. _AND_, it's not just for chapter three/four. If your character wasn't picked, mention them again for the second round, or third or fourth. Call it a chance to **populate Hogwarts**. (Because, of course, I'm not trying to milk reviews out of you or anything, you _were_ going to leave a review _anyway_, right? Right?)

Example: "Wowzers. Great story. My character: Aoede Hembree. Female. Ravenclaw. Third. Brazen." (If you have any questions, feel free to send me an FF PM or an email.)

Lastly, I referenced lycanthropy three times in the last chapter, and no one noticed?

**Chapter Three: "Questions & Warnings"**

By the time James and Sirius managed to drag themselves up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower and into the dormitory, they were almost too exhausted to worry about changing out of their clothes. With a feeble, half-attempt to rid himself of his robes, James cast the invisibility cloak into his open trunk without so much as sparing a quick glance around the room. Once his shoes were off, he simply pulled open the curtains of his four-poster bed, and collapsed in a heap on the sheets.

In the bed on the right, Sirius' actions mirrored his friend's. His feet were killing him after their strenuous wanderings, and he had to struggle to keep his eye lids open long enough to correctly identify which of the five four-posters was his.

After seeing Professor Belecost exiting the forest, the pair had forgotten their weariness long enough to examine the area he had come out of, not trusting themselves under the cloak enough to follow him without being caught. They'd been sorely disappointed.

"He was probably farther in than this," James had pointed out, with an unmasked yawn. "It's too dark to see anything, though." Even with the full harvest moon shining brightly above, the thick foliage overhead prevented any light from guiding their way more than a few feet into the Forbidden Forest. "Do you remember that spell…?"

Sirius had shaken his head in annoyance, realizing too late that if they had thought to bring Goodwin along, he could have performed the charm to ignite the end of their wands. He was just recalling this thought, as he slipped under the covers, reminding himself to ask his dorm-mate about the light-bearing spell at breakfast. His last sight was of Goodwin's empty bed, as his tired eyes finally drifted shut.

The following morning, the boys were awoken by the familiar buzzing of Goodwin's alarm clock – now set correctly to go off an hour and a half before the start of their first class – and began to pull themselves out of bed, albeit at their own pace. Peter, as usual, was the first to spring into action, pulling his robes on with ease and hurriedly assembling his necessary school supplies. James and Sirius were both much more leisurely in their approach to preparing for the day.

"Goodwin! Will you turn that thing off already? We're awake!" James was pulling on a pair of socks, and scowling dangerously in the direction of the alarm. It had been going off for over a minute, and growing steadily louder.

Sirius was the one to flip the switch on the clock, having been reaching for the tie tossed in that direction days earlier – his other uniform ties lost or destroyed in various classroom incidents. With it in hand, he straightened. "Hey, where's Goodwin?"

The bed was as empty as it had been the night before.

"What do you mean 'where's Goodwin'?" Peter approached the four-poster bed cautiously, as though worried that the Gryffindor would jump out of nowhere to frighten him. "Why wouldn't he be here? Where could he have gone?"

"The same place as Remus, perhaps." James replied, dryly, as he pointed at Lupin's similarly empty bed. His, however, was neatly made, unlike the tangle of sheets piled haphazardly on Goodwin's.

"Must have left for breakfast early," Sirius was struggling with his tie, yet again, "Wish I had. By the time we get down there, there's going to be no kippers left." Still not quite used to the routine of waking up before noon, the first few hours of Sirius' day were controlled moreso by his stomach than his brain.

James, however, was less easily swayed, still examining Goodwin's things. "His bag's still here. Why would he go all the way downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast, then come all the way back up here for his schoolbag, and then go back down to the first floor for Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

Sirius shrugged, "Because he's a nutter, that's why. Can we go eat now?"

In the Great Hall, the three Gryffindors took their customary seats at the table – James and Sirius on opposite sides of each other, and Peter quietly inhabiting the space to James' left. If Goodwin and Remus had been present, both seats on Sirius' left and right sides would be occupied. As if uninterested by their absence, the Gryffindor was already digging into a plate of kippers by the time James opened his mouth to again broach the subject.

"Sirius, you've _got_ to have some idea of where he went. I mean, they aren't here, are they?" James spread his arms wide, gesturing to the Gryffindor table as a whole.

"Upstairs to get his bag, seems like."

"That's rich, and we didn't pass him on our way down."

"Different passageway," Sirius' answer was muffled by a mouthful of fish, and he didn't bother to swallow before adding, "And before you ask, Remus is in the loo, taking a – "

"Actually," Peter looked up from his bacon to flash a hopeful look in James' direction, as though wanting to be noticed, "Remus said he had to go visit his mum. She's in St. Mungo's or something."

Sirius shot James a pointed look, one which said that further conjecture was no longer necessary.

"That doesn't explain Goodwin though, does it?"

Now Sirius groaned and rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I reckon the next thing you'll come up with is that he suddenly mastered the art of invisibility and disappeared? Or perhaps he disapparated clear out of here, and is now gallivanting about Hogsmeade? Or maybe," here he paused for dramatic effect, "The reason he wasn't in the dormitory last night or this morning is because he's – " another pause, " – a werewolf!"

Peter gasped, and both James and Sirius burst into laughter.

"I don't see what's so funny about it." Peter scowled, shooting them both accusing looks, although without realizing it was himself they were laughing at, "There _was_ a full moon last night."

This only spawned more laughter, and with an annoyed huff – and a quick glance around – Peter joined in.

xxxxx

The Gryffindors' Friday consisted of a Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the Ravenclaws, Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, and then a double Potions class. Neither Remus nor Goodwin showed up, a fact which wasn't so much as mentioned by Belecost, Sprout or Slughorn – much to James' frustration. Despite having tried to ask during each lesson, the subject was always neatly glossed over or artfully changed.

While Sirius had brushed the absences aside as being uninteresting and unimportant, James wasn't ready to give up so easily. Although Remus was allegedly visiting his sick mother in St. Mungo's, Goodwin's disappearance could not be explained away so simply. (Unless, of course, the two were secretly brothers, an idea which James considered critically and passed on to Sirius via a note sent during Potions. Sirius had burst out into laughter, and lost five house points for disrupting the class.)

"_Brothers_?" He was still laughing as they left the dungeons and made their way back up to the common room before dinner. "Come on, James! Even the werewolf theory was better than that!" He had conveniently forgotten that that particular idea had been his own, "There's no way Perkins and Lupin are brothers," he referred to both by their last names, as though to capitalize the difference.

"They both disappeared at the same time, didn't they? Remus' mum is sick, why can't she be Goodwin's mum, too?"

"Let me see – Gallopin' Gorgons – " he interrupted himself with the current Gryffindor password, and the portrait of the fat lady swung open to allow them entrance, " – Goodwin had to _introduce_ himself to Remus, didn't he? Don't brothers usually know each other?" He flopped down onto one of the couches, dropping his bag next to it and immediately loosening his tie. "I mean, I'm not going to go up to my brother and say, _Hallo! My name's Sirius Black, what's yours?_, now am I?"

James blinked, he had never heard Sirius mention a brother before, or even make reference to his family. "You have a – "

"That's not the point!" He threw his hands up in emphasis, then bent to pull out his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, "There is no way they're related. Goodwin's probably just sick or something. Think about that one?"

James didn't want to give up so easily, but with an indifferent shrug so like Sirius' own, he pulled out his own Herbology textbook, making a conscious effort to push Goodwin's mysterious absence to the back of his mind.

xxxxx

The Gryffindors' first weekend arrived, bringing with it relief for the first years, and unusually warm weather. While the older students holed themselves away in dormitories or the library, the rest of the Gryffindors – blissfully homework free – had taken to enjoying the rare September sunshine out on the grounds.

The common room was simply no longer _safe_ – at least, not from James Potter and Sirius Black.

The original plan for dumping muggle itching powder in Goodwin's robes having disappeared along with their comrade, Sirius and James soon found themselves arguing over what to do with the powder. A tug-of-war-turned-fist-fight resulted in the bottle exploding across the common room. The petty fight of "what do we do with it now" ended immediately, as identical grins blossomed across both faces.

Every one else had pretty much avoided the common room since – the mischievous duo included.

The pranks they chose to pull during their first weekend were simple and petty – to say the best of the them. After the excitement of the itching powder, they had mellowed down, and now, hidden behind a well placed tapestry on the sixth floor, they waited, poised to execute their next trick.

"Yes, that first year kid – Perkins, I think." A pair of female voices could be heard coming down the corridor in James and Sirius' direction, and the pair beamed – victims!

"I heard from Greta Catchlove in Ravenclaw, who heard from her older sister – you know, the one who had that accident in Charms the other day – that he was in the hospital wing." Sirius had correctly identified Bertha Jorkins as a gossip from nothing more than their short conversation during dinner on the first day of term, and the conversation she was having with a very tall Hufflepuff third year as the pair made their way down the corridor proved it. "It bet it's something _dreadful_."

"What dreadful things could possibly happen in the first week?" Her friend sounded skeptical, and James immediately took her for the smarter of the pair, until – "Oh, look! A galleon!"

It took a great deal of self control to keep Sirius and James from bursting out in laughter as they listened to the girls struggling to pry the spelled galleon up off the floor. "I thought she was the smart one," James whispered in Sirius' ear, clutching his stomach in silent peals of mirth.

"Says something about how dumb Jorkins is, doesn't it?" Sirius whispered back, through gritted teeth.

"Oh dear," the Hufflepuff was saying, having apparently given up. "It seems to be stuck," she shrugged, helplessly, "I hope whoever dropped it can get it at least. You know, like King Arthur and the sword." The pair passed on, and as their voices faded in the distance, Sirius leapt out to inspect the galleon, letting out a loud bark of laughter.

"They fell for it! Perfect! This is great!" He was beaming, and turned towards James, "Do you think we could get a teacher to try and pick it up?" Answering his own question, he added, "Slughorn might! Let's go stick it down outside his office and see – " He fell silent, noticing the thoughtful expression on his friend's face, "Oh, come off it, James."

"Well! What if he _is_ in the hospital wing?"

Sirius shrugged, "Yeah, what if. So, dungeons, right?" He plastered a hopeful expression across his face, "Slughorn. Galleon." Realizing from James' expression that he was losing fast, he added, "Come on! We can even rip my tie when he bends over, so he thinks he ripped his robes! It'll be _funny!_"

"I'm going to visit Goodwin," James hadn't forgotten that the missing Gryffindor was his first choice of 'best friend' at Hogwarts. Sirius liked to disagree with him at every turn, _and_ he didn't like Quidditch. A scowl growing on his face, James marched past the galleon and in the direction of the stairs. He didn't turn around, even when he heard Sirius calling out after him.

"James! James, come – back – here - !" In a moment, Sirius had caught up to his friend, panting and grabbed his arm, dragging him back in the opposite direction. "Look, if we're going to go visit Goodwin, can you at least unstick my galleon?"

James burst into laughter.

xxxxx

Seven thirty Sunday morning found Sirius annoyed, James suspicious and Peter nervously trailing the two around the dormitory, through the common room and to the Great Hall for breakfast. After trying unsuccessfully to visit the hospital wing – where they were firmly turned away by Madame Pomfrey, the school matron – James had spouted hundreds of reasons as to why Goodwin could be ill, injured or even dead, and Sirius had told him to bother someone else for a change. Both had taken to ignoring the other.

Peter had gleefully taken up position in the middle of the pair, reveling in the fact that they were paying attention to him, if only to demand he say some disparaging remark to the other.

"Oh good, kippers!" Having reached the Gryffindor table, Sirius pulled the plate of fish towards him almost before sitting down, and dug in hurriedly.

With a sniff and an irritated expression, James imperiously informed Peter that he should tell Sirius that, "No one cares about your kippers," which the fatter boy did eagerly.

Sirius chose to ignore this particular comment, as the morning post arrived. A veritable bevy of owls soared in through the windows, depositing letters and packages to their owners. Amid the flurry of browns, whites and grays, James noticed Remus' rather large Eurasian Eagle Owl, Artemis among those delivering the post.

Forgetting his anger in the excitement that the arrival of the muted brown owl could mean something about Remus' disappearance, he turned to Sirius and pointed up at the bird. "Isn't that Artemis?"

Sirius, surprised that James had suddenly started speaking to him, and having forgotten that it was he himself who had begun the silence in the first place, followed James' finger. "Remus' owl? Yeah. Looks like she's lost."

James, as usual, wasn't so easily convinced. "Owls don't just get lost like that. Besides, it's _Remus'_ owl," Lupin had quickly risen up the ranks to be at the top of most of their classes, "Don't you think she ought to know that he's not here right now? Plus, who's going to be sending him something if his mum's in St. Mungo's?"

They quickly lost sight of the bird, who did not land at the table with Harpy and Polaris, the former dropping a thick envelope at James' plate, and the other forwarding a copy of the morning's Daily Prophet from Sirius' mother.

James gave his bird a pat, grinning as he watched the barn owl take a bite out of Sirius' fish while the Gryffindor wasn't looking. "I'll write a reply tonight, I promise." Harpy nibbled affectionately on his finger, and took off, Polaris following.

"Letter from home?" Sirius leaned over to examine James' envelope, their argument still forgotten, while Peter, slightly put off by this improvement in their friendship, watched sulkily for his own owl.

"Yeah. A long one by the looks of it," He looked slightly embarrassed as he stuffed it into his robes, "I'll – uh – read it later. Did you get the Prophet?"

Sirius nodded in response. Since his first day at Hogwarts, his mother had taken out a second subscription to the wizarding newspaper, and instead of having it delivered to Sirius directly, forwarded his copy from home by way of Polaris, his Northern Hawk Owl. She apparently thought it would be "good reading" for him to focus on, while he mostly pitched the newspaper the moment an opportunity arose.

"Anything interesting?" James himself leaned over to take one of his friend's kippers, making a face as he swallowed. Fish was definitely not for him.

"There never is. It's just a boring, old newspaper." For posterity's sake, he flipped through the pages, boredly. "Nope. Nothing."

"Hey – what's that?" Peter, not seeing Happy among the now departing birds, leaned over the table to look at the open page of the Prophet.

"Those are words, Pettigrew."

"No, no – that!" He reached across Sirius' arm to point at an article, practically ripping the paper in two in his eagerness, reading out the headline with both excitement and trepidation. "_Grindlewald's Reign of Terror Continued? Rise of Darkness Imminent._"

Sirius snorted, "Some blather about how we're all going to die, I'm sure. Grindlewald's been gone for _ever_. And who would be nutty enough to try and do the same thing? That's ridiculous."

James took the paper from Sirius, and Peter moved back into his seat, able to look over James' shoulder much easier than he could have seen over Sirius'. "It's just a short article. Let's see…" His eyes flew across the page, scanning it more than anything, before he shook out the paper, straightened it and read aloud.

'_Grindlewald's Reign of Terror Continued? Rise of Darkness Imminent.  
The wizarding world is at watch once again for the potential rise of a new Lord of Darkness. The dark wizard, Grindlewald has long been a part of the legends which make Albus Dumbledore, current headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – '_

All three boys spared a glance up at the staff table, where Dumbledore was happily munching on a slice of toast.

'_—so revered today. Grindlewald's defeat was an astonishing victory for the rest of the world, protecting muggles and magical persons alike. However, recently there have been a number of mysterious disappearances that the Ministry wishes to conceal. Can the startling departures of Lettice Hooper, Menenius Pinkstone and Volumina Smethley, all members of different Ministry departments, be connected?  
A Ministry official had this to say, "We will not be disclosing any information regarding the alleged disappearances of Hooper and Smethley, although we do know that Pinkstone has simply left early for his vacation, without informing anyone of his departure, where he was going or when he would be back. However, with the safety of the wizarding world in mind, we would like to remind citizens to be on their guard when out alone, and report any missing persons or strange behavior immediately to the Magical Law Enforcement Office."  
Is this simply a cover-up for something foul within the Ministry itself, or are we truly facing another Grindlewald?"_Peter shivered, as if worried that Grindlewald himself were hiding somewhere in the Great Hall. "I want to go back up to the common room," something about the password protected Gryffindor Tower made him feel safer, and he cast a hopeful glance at both James and Sirius, as if silently begging them to come with him.

Neither noticed, and Peter, practically clinging to a startled group of Gryffindor fourth years, left the Great Hall.

"There, you see!" James was pointing at the article triumphantly, not worried in the least. "I told you there was something fishy about all this."

Sirius guffawed, "That's just my breakfast," which he dutifully returned to eating. "It's hogwash, the lot of it. And Peter is a nit for believing in anything that the Prophet might say. 'Another Grindlewald', 'report missing persons or strange behavior'." He snorted, "Utter rot."

James was shaking his head emphatically, "No, no – don't you see the connection? Goodwin and Remus both went missing Thursday night! The _same_ night we saw Professor Belecost leaving the forest!"

"Sorry mate, you've got some of your facts wrong." Sirius swallowed, and pushed his empty plate towards the middle of the table, "Goodwin went to the hospital wing, and Remus went to see his sick mum Thursday night. And Professor Belecost was probably having a midnight rendezvous with Sinistra or Vector – you've seen the faces they make at him during dinner."

James was ignoring him, "Do you think we should point this out to someone?"

"No."

About to reply with something insulting, James froze when he saw the red-haired girl he had insulted – and subsequently ignored – days earlier, move down the table with one of the Houdini triplets at her side. In fact, it looked more like Cornelia Houdini was dragging the girl towards where James and Sirius were sitting than anything else, and after giving James a pointed look, backed away, leaving the red-head to her own devices.

"Uh," She was blushing, her face turning nearly as red as her hair, "Hi."

The pair stared up at her in confusion.

"I'm Lily. Lily Evans, and I just wanted to say that I – uh – I forgive you for – uh – what you said about me during class the other day. And I – that is Corny – uh – Cornelia – thought that I should apologize, too, for avoiding you and all." Her face was turning redder with each word she said, and it became quite clear to both James and Sirius that she was terribly nervous.

Just as James opened his mouth to reply that, "It's all right, I'm sorry if I insulted you," Sirius jumped in with a comment of his own.

"Oh? Were you avoiding us? We didn't notice."

Lily appeared further insulted by this, and looked at James as if wanting him to stand up and defend her. When he simply blinked back in confusion, she lost the blush that had been creeping up her cheeks and furrowed her brow in anger. "Well… _Well_!" Without saying a word more, she pivoted on her heel, grabbed Cornelia's arm and marched out of the Great Hall.

"I'd say you messed up again, mate." Sirius stood, watching as the pair went through the doors, "But then again, birds are funny – "

" – like that, yeah, I know." He'd heard his friend say this numerous times in the past week. Standing, himself, he tilted his head towards another departing figure: Professor Belecost. "Come on, let's go talk to him about… _you know_."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Not this again."

"Come on!"

It took them until just after dinner to track down the Professor, as he had disappeared the moment he left the Great Hall, and James and Sirius had spent the better part of the day looking for him. Finally, they managed to find him in his office on the second floor, after having checked there numerous times.

After a quick knock, and being invited in, they entered. If the number of magical artifacts in the classroom itself were impressive, it was nothing compared to the collection of shrunken heads, horned skulls and clawed vials of a dark-looking substance visible in the nooks and crannies of the cramped office. Devon Belecost was leaning over his desk when James knocked, and looked up, apparently pleased to see two of his first year students on a Sunday. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, how are you? Did you need any help on your essay?"

James cringed, both he and Sirius had forgotten about the essay that they'd been set.

Sirius, however, was quicker to smooth over the awkward pause. "No, we both finished last night, actually. This is a 'social call'," he laughed at the phrase and moved closer to the teacher. Belecost looked slightly windswept, as though he had been out on the grounds recently, and Sirius didn't miss the amount of dirt on the floor near his shoes. "James and I had a few questions for you."

"Yeah, a few questions," James was back in his element now, the knowledge that he'd need to do his essay tucked into the back of his head. "So, we were out exploring the castle today – " Sirius snorted, and Belecost looked amused, "And we were wondering if there were any secret passages between floors."

"You know," Sirius added, "To get to class faster."

"Ah, boys, you know that I'm probably not the one to ask about these things." He was grinning, "I've only been teaching at Hogwarts as long as you've been students -- "

"But you were a student here, Professor."

He blinked, caught. "Yes, well. All right – I don't know _all_ of the secret passages, but I do happen to know that there's a tapestry on the fifth floor which hides a chute to the second. Great for going down, not so good for going back up."

James and Sirius exchanged a glance, "Excellent!"

"Also, we feel we can ask you this, because you know, we _trust _you," James had to hide a smile behind his hand as Sirius continued, "What happens if a student gets into, say, the kitchens?"

Now Belecost was openly beaming, realizing that these two clearly took after his own heart when it came to exploration and adventure, "There's no penalty that I know of. Of course, as long as the students aren't getting into the kitchens, say, after hours." He scrutinized the two carefully, taking in James' half-hidden smirk and the all-too-innocent look on Sirius' face. "However, you'll have to find out how to get in on your own. Unless, of course," He continued his scrutiny, "You've already found the way in."

He was met with perfectly straight faces, although Sirius and James had discovered the entrance to the kitchen on their first trip around the castle.

"Was that all you boys wanted to ask me?"

"Oh!" James pretended to have only thought of it now, "Why's the Forbidden Forest forbidden? What's in there anyway?"

Belecost didn't so much as blink at the question, and James was disappointed that it hadn't spurned an outright confession of something sinister from the Professor, "Really it's just not safe, period. Students can get lost in there, and there's some unsavory creatures living in it, too. Unicorns, yes, but centaurs, too. Among _other_ things."

"Werewolves?" The question slipped out before Sirius could prevent it.

Belecost eyed him carefully, answering, "Well, I would doubt that there are any werewolves running about Hogwarts, but I suppose it's entirely possible. You'd be better off to speak with Hagrid about the forest, actually. I trust you know Hagrid?"

"Yeah," James was still disappointed at Belecost's obvious innocence. "One more. Have _you_ ever been in the forest."

Again, the professor smoothed his way gracefully around the question, "No."

xxxxx

James, giddy with excitement at what they had learned about Professor Belecost, had somehow managed to fall asleep long before Sirius, having again forgotten about his essay. The latter chose to spend the evening sitting in the one couch of the common room he _knew_ wasn't covered in itching powder, and began to conduct a long, overdue letter home.

'_Dear mum,_'

He had always addressed letters home to his mother instead of his father, and now it had become a force of habit.

'_Hogwarts is…'_ He struggled to find a word which she would approve of, and settled on '_interesting. I'm sure you have heard from Bella and Cissa that I have been sorted into Gryffindor.'_ Too indifferent perhaps? He accredited the lack of letters from home to the fact that his mother was still angry about where he had been sorted, breaking the long, traditional line of Blacks in Slytherin.

As he struggled through what he hoped would be a pleasing letter, the common room slowly emptied around him, the Gryffindors leaving with an occasional scratch. It was soon past midnight, and Sirius' eye lids began to drift closed. He awoke with a start when he felt a soft poke on his shoulder blades.

"Sirius? You should probably go to bed."

Remus was back, and in Sirius' opinion he looked much more like he needed to go to bed than anyone else. "Where've you been?" The question came out more accusatory than he intended, but he wanted to know.

Remus colored, "I was visiting my mother. She's been quite ill."

Sirius nodded, his sleep starved mind accepting this as the truth, "Good night, then."

He received a confused look in return, and furrowing his brow, Remus went up the stairs to the dormitory, leaving his dorm-mate to fall asleep on the couch.

The last thing that Sirius was consciously aware of was a disappearing light in the window, and the faint buzzing of an engine somewhere off in the distance.

**Closing Comments**: Alright. So someone, please someone, any someone. You guys have _got _to call me on my inserts. I feel so witty and smart for putting them in, and then no one ever says anything. Free character write in to the first person who correctly guesses the significance behind the names of Artemis, Harpy and Polaris – the three owls belong to Remus, James and Sirius, respectively. (Hint #1: the three names don't have anything in common with _each other_, but are relevant in connection with their owner. Hint #2: On the second owl, think James' favorite thing in the world.)  
Okay – so I would have _liked_ to make this chapter Remus-centric. But of course, I'm sure you all know where the poor boy has been all this time, and I'm sad to say that if we followed him for the weekend, we'd all be pretty bored. Also – for those of you who are sticklers on the fact that "Peter was a Marauder, _too_", I will do a Peter-centric chapter. (Yes, I hear some of you groaning. Stop that. Peter was a Marauder, _too_.) However, now is not a good time for it.  
So there we are. Chapter three. And guess what – we actually formally have a plot now! What exactly is Belecost doing in the forest, and _why_ is he lying about it? And _where_ is Goodwin these days? Hmmmm… Because of course… we know that there were only _four_ Marauders in the end, right?


	4. Detention with Belecost

**Authoress' Notes:** Huzzah! We made it through the evils of chapter three, and onto chapter four – what a feat! (For me, of course, certainly not for you.) In answer to a popular question I've been getting through email, there will be _seventeen_ chapters – the same as in the Philosopher's Stone.

However, before we get into the feature presentation, I have a few salient points to cover.

1 – Thanks every one for all the characters you sent in! I put the names in a hat and accidentally pulled out two, (they were stuck to each other), and so I'm using both this chapter! (Thanks, _TigerLily21 _and _Samantha_.) Their names have also been added to my big chart of who is currently at Hogwarts, and they may turn up again. Feel free to submit a new character for this chapter, every one! (All of the characters already submitted are still in the hat!)

2 – You all came _very_ close to figuring out the relevance behind the names of the owls. In fact, _all_ of the correct answers were given at some point – but no one got all three!

Remus' owl is named after Artemis, the Greek goddess of the moon – and of course, we know how the moon fits in with Remus.

James' owl, Harpy, is named for his favorite _Quidditch_ team. This was probably the hardest of the three to figure out, but he does talk about Quidditch a lot, and JK has mentioned the Holyhead Harpies rather extensively through the last few Harry Potter books. (Think Gwenog Jones, the team captain.)

Lastly, Polaris is the current north star, and it is a Black family tradition to name children after constellations.

3 – Yay! Now that Remus is back from his monthly ordeal, we can follow him around again! (I rather like writing from Remus' approximate perspective, there's more room for thought development and description.)

**Chapter Four: "Detention with Belecost"  
**  
Bright criss-crosses of buttery morning light fell across the sleek flooring of the first year Gryffindors' dormitory, illuminating the scattered pages of parchment, misplaced text books and pieces of clothing strewn arbitrarily across the room. With an irritating sense of purpose, the rays seemed to converge in Remus' face, casting a light warmth on his pale skin.

The eleven-year old lifted his head wearily from his pillow. The feeling that his limbs had turned to lead had yet to fade away entirely, and it was with a methodical slowness that he slid his legs over the edge of the four-poster bed and on to the cool floor. The comfortable warmth of the sheets slipped away as he cast them aside, reaching up to rub bleary eyes.

It did not take more than a moment for him to realize that he was alone – and hastily, he returned to the cozy safety his blankets provided. Curling up into a tight ball, he pressed his knees into his chest, and wrapped his arms about his shins, letting his eyes fall closed once more.

Instinct told him he had to sleep, to return to the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness, but now that it was four days past the full moon, the wolf was beginning to retreat within his mind. The violent demands it urged him towards had all but disappeared, and he knew that even the steely golden glint in his eyes had faded back to a more neutral hazel color.

No, he couldn't go back to sleep now. It was Tuesday, and he'd already missed too full days of class. Who knew how far behind he had gotten by now?

He yawned, and was on his feet.

Slipping his black work robes over his head, he made quick work of his striped Gryffindor tie ,tucking it neatly under his cardigan, and reaching up for his school bag. He wondered, for a moment, why someone hadn't bothered to wake him up. Perhaps Sirius, who had seen him come in the night before, thought he would want to sleep in? No, Sirius didn't strike him as being the sort to worry about that kind of thing.

Peter might have woken him up, though. The chubby Gryffindor had taken to following Remus between classes and after dinner. However, with such a sudden – although explained – absence, perhaps this had ended for good, and Peter had found someone else to trail. James, probably.

Shouldering his bag, he made his way down the circular staircase and out through the portrait hole. After a quick bowing of his head at a snide comment about punctuality directed at him by the fat lady, he hurried off to Transfigurations, knowing there was at least a half hour left in the class.

"Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall looked down at him severely through her square-rimmed glasses. It had been just his luck to push the door open and enter the classroom as she was in mid-sentence on some lecture or another. He opened his mouth immediately to apologize, but her eyes softened. "I trust your mother is on the mend?"

Startled, he nodded. "Yes – ah – she is. Thank you, Professor."

McGonagall tilted her head in the direction of his vacant seat, and he slid in between Sirius and Peter, pulling out his notes and quickly copying what had already been written on the room's black board. He hadn't been sitting for more than a few minutes before a folded up scrap of parchment appeared on his notes, flicked in his direction from the left. With one eye on the board, and another on the parchment, he carefully unfolded the sheet – catching James' expectant look out of the corner of his eye.

'_Lupin!_' His name was scrawled across the page in James' messy handwriting, with unnecessary flourish, '_You're back! Where'd you go, mate? Been gone for days!'_

He glanced up at McGonagall quickly, grateful for the row of girls sitting in front of them. Irmina Wigworthy's flamboyant hair-do effectively hid the note from the Professor's view. Still keeping an eye on the board, Remus picked up his quill. '_I was at St. Mungo's_.' He penned the reply, his writing not much neater than James' ,waiting for just the right moment before flicking it back.

Sparing a quick look in James' direction, Remus could see him eagerly reading the note, and appearing somewhat disappointed at the answer. Between them, Sirius was leaning over James' shoulder, and promptly pulled the parchment out of his hands, before scribbling on it and sliding it back to Remus.

'_What's your mum got?'_

He flinched at the question. Remus already felt guilty enough for using his mother as an excuse to be away, and had even written her a lengthy letter apologizing for it. Glad as he was that there was nothing wrong with her, the lack of tact and subtlety in Sirius' question annoyed him. Furrowing his brow, he replied, '_Malatungocytosis.'_ He wasn't sure where the name of the ailment came from, or if it was even real, but it sounded as viable as anything.

Once the note was back in his hands, Sirius scribbled another reply before letting James see it, and tossed it back.

'_Never heard of it_,' Remus had to squint to make out Sirius' near-illegible writing. Beneath the messy scrawl, James had added, '_What's your muggle mum doing in a wizard hospital, anyway?_'

At the front of the classroom, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, annoyedly. In a moment, the note levitated itself off of Remus' desk, flew through the air towards the front of the room, and incinerated itself. With a pointed look in the direction of the three note-passing miscreants, the Professor pointed towards the door with her wand, and it opened as if on its own accord, "Class dismissed."

xxxxx

Remus sat alone at lunch. Where Sirius and Goodwin would have been to his left, and James and Peter across the table, the seats were empty. He didn't mind so much, still tired from his transformation the few nights previous. Besides, he consoled himself, it wasn't as if they had just ditched him. Peter claimed to have an unfinished homework assignment to complete in the sanctuary of the library during their lunch hour, and both James and Sirius had some sort of lunch time detention procured during their second period Charms class.

And Goodwin, well, Remus couldn't do much more for the fifth Gryffindor than hope he get better soon. Having spent the greater part of the weekend in the hospital wing himself, he'd seen the prone first year asleep in bed, and had heard from the school matron – in not quite so many words – that he had a serious food allergy of one kind or another, one which wasn't so easily healed with magic.

Those four days in the hospital wing had worried Remus more than anything. On top of Goodwin's presence, there had been two Hufflepuffs; Andrea Wilson and Clara Branstone, who showed up on Saturday with injuries caused by a head-on collision on one of the castle's many staircases.

Hidden behind a curtain, Remus had spent the time sleeping, and weakly listening in on those around him – praying that no one would ask who was concealed in his corner of the room, or worse: let their curiosity get the better of them and take a look for themselves.

Across the room, at the head table, Dumbledore rose. Observing this simple action from where he sat, Remus recalled his desire to thank the headmaster. Pushing aside his plate of half-eaten Lincolnshire sausage – even after the full moon, it took days for his appetite to return – he followed the wizard to the doors leading out of the Great Hall. "Professor!" He called out, once, and the headmaster turned.

"Remus Lupin," blue eyes twinkled down at him, accompanied by a soft, kind-hearted smile. "How is your mother? I hope she's feeling better." The intended meaning to his words was not lost, and Remus found himself feeling in awe of the tall man before him.

"Yes, I – I think she is, thank you."

Dumbledore nodded, satisfied, and turned to walk away. Impulsively, Remus grabbed at his long sleeve, and the headmaster, bewildered, turned to look back at him.

"Professor," Suddenly, staring back up at the man, Remus began to lose his resolve, stuttering slightly as he choked out, "I wanted to th-thank you… for letting me stay."

Dumbledore looked down at his student with what Remus immediately assumed had to be pity, "There is no reason for such a simple problem to get in the way of one's education, Remus." He was still smiling brightly as he continued, "It would be quite a misfortune for a mind so bright as yours to have to remain in the dark." He straightened his shoulders, indicating his desire to continue on, "Now if you'll excuse me, Honeydukes is to owl me a supply of their newest chocolate confection this afternoon, and I wouldn't want to miss it. Chocolate, I find, is a wonderful restorative. You should tell your mother to try some the next time she falls ill." With those few words of advice, he was gone, disappearing down the crowded hallway.

Dumbledore's words, however, were not lost quite so quickly from Remus' head, as he mulled over them on his way to Herbology. He had referred to the hated lycanthropy as being nothing more than a simple problem. _Simple_. That was easy for Dumbledore to say – he didn't have to go through the painful monthly transformations, or face the ostracism, or the fear.

With the greenhouses nearing, Remus stopped in his tracks. If Dumbledore could view it as a simple misfortune in the boy's daily life, why couldn't he, Remus, take each month in stride? The differences between the great wizard and Gryffindor first year were obvious, but that didn't mean that Remus couldn't try to view it in the same way.

It was something worth thinking about.

xxxxx

At dinner that evening, Remus had pushed the thoughts of his lycanthropy aside, as he came to the conclusion that James and Sirius were up to something. Speaking in hushed tones, their plans were inaudible, although Remus was sure he'd heard the name of their Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor come up more than once.

The pair had disappeared after the meal, only to return just as Remus was falling asleep, appearing both tired and frustrated.

It was the same story at breakfast the following morning, and Remus found himself virtually ignored during Transfigurations, except to be asked by Sirius about the _lumos_ spell.

His suspicions, however, were secured during their second period Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Having been absent during Friday's class, Remus buckled down with a firm resolve to learn as much as possible from the lesson – and hopefully pick up what he'd missed. He seated himself at his two-person desk next to Peter, pulling out his text book and notes carefully, as behind him, Sirius filled Goodwin's usual seat next to James.

Professor Belecost was nowhere to be seen.

"Where do you reckon --?" He heard Sirius say, a few feet away.

"Shhh," James replied, urgently, and the pair fell into another round of their hushed murmurings .

Tuning the sounds of their whispering out, Remus turned to Peter, who looked as twitchy as always. This time, however, the anxiety seemed to be due to him having forgotten his text book. "You can share with me," Remus offered, generously, "What did we do in class the day I missed?"

Peter scrunched up his face, struggling to remember. "We're still working on simple spells. I think it was the door unlocking one…" He squinted, as though it would bring the name of the particular spell to the top of his memory, "A – Alo – A - "

"It's _alohomora_," the red-head in front of them supplied, turning back to look at them. Next to her, one of the Houdini Triplets – Cornelia, Remus recalled – smiled and waved at him.

"Oh, Remus! I heard about your mum," she said, after a quick look to make sure that Belecost hadn't entered suddenly, "I hope she's feeling better."

"She is, thanks."

Cornelia motioned towards the red-head, "This is Lily, by the way. I don't know if you've met her yet or not."

Remus shook his head, he hadn't, and smiled pleasantly at the girl in front of him. "I'm Remus Lupin, he supplied, softly.

"I apologize, class," the rich baritone of Belecost's voice filled the room, as he entered through his office, taking the stairs at a brisk trot and soon becoming level with the students. "My third-years are studying dark creatures – we were out by the lake. Now, if you'll pull out your text boo –"

From behind Remus, Sirius raised a hand, a cold look plastered across his face. "Professor," he interrupted loudly, "I seem to have forgotten mine."

The look with which Belecost shot him was a mixture of annoyance and bewilderment, "Share with Potter, then."

"I'm sorry, Professor," that was James speaking, and Remus realized that this must have been what they were planning. How petty. "But I've forgotten mine, too."

The expression on Belecost's face shifted to aggravation, and Remus couldn't help but notice the cool look he was giving the pair, "Does _anyone_ have a text book they would be willing to share with Potter and Black?" He focused his attention on Peter, "Pettigrew – pass your book back and share with Lupin."

Peter's face broke out in a bright blush, "I'm sorry, sir, but I forgot mine, too. I'm already sharing with Remus."

Belecost opened his mouth to comment on this, but from in front of Peter, Cornelia raised a slender hand, "Professor? I don't mind sharing with Lily. James and Sirius can use my book." She twisted in her seat to shoot them an accusing look, "So long as they don't _write_ in it."

"Thank you, Miss Houdini," Belecost intoned, turning to the chalk board as Cornelia rose to pass the book back, rolling her eyes at the shocked look on her sister's face. Cassia Houdini was sitting a few rows away with one of her Ravenclaw friends.

The lesson began, with the Professor teaching them another incantation from an endless list of simple, but useful spells. "This allows for a few seconds between the recitation and result –" A loud bang echoed through the room, and while the students jumped, looking around hastily for the source of the sound, both Remus and Belecost knew exactly from whence it had come.

Turning in his seat, Remus caught the look of triumph on Sirius and James' faces, and the sight of Cornelia's text book lying haphazardly on the floor, its pages lying open, and partly crushed where it had been unceremoniously dumped.

"Sorry, _Professor_," James apologized, snidely. "I seem to have accidentally dropped the text book."

Belecost's eyes narrowed. "Pick it up, then." He turned back to the blackboard, "—between the recitation and the result. Which means it is not the sort of spell to use in a pinch. There are very few which such a delayed – " A second bang echoed through the room.

"_Potter_," Belecost was snarling as he strode down the aisle of desks in the direction of their table, "I am going to have to ask you to – "

"That wasn't _me_, Professor," James was openly grinning, and he pointed across the room where Cassia Houdini and Aoede Hembree were looking at their text books in bewilderment. The two books had somehow propelled themselves off the desk and both lay on the floor.

Cassia threw her hands up in surrender, "It wasn't us, Professor Belecost! I swear!"

Ahead of Remus, Cornelia chuckled and whispered something to Lily about that being the reason neither of her sisters were in Gryffindor.

Belecost wasn't fooled. Remus could see the steely intelligence in his eyes, and knew that the Professor was well aware that neither Cassia nor Aoede had been responsible for their text books' sudden uncharacteristic flight for freedom. However, he let the lesson continue – only to be interrupted once again as Arnold Crowder and Laurence Derwent's books went flying, to be followed by the one Lily and Cornelia were sharing. Patience wearing thin, Belecost rounded on who he suspected – no, knew – to be the culprits.

"Potter, Black – detention." He turned back to the board before adding, "You too, Lupin."

xxxxx

That evening brought the dreaded detention. Despite attempts to prove to Professor Belecost that he had had nothing to do with James and Sirius' scheme, Remus found himself trudging down to the second floor, trailing the pair as they made their way to Belecost's office. Why the Professor had lumped him together with them, he didn't understand – and neither James nor Sirius saw reason to apologize.

In fact, from what he could hear of what they were saying a few feet ahead, they found the whole thing quite amusing.

Remus certainly didn't.

As a dead man walking, he entered through the door which Sirius gallantly held open, to see the Professor standing tall behind his desk, back to them. He had doffed his traditional wizarding robes in favor of a worn pair of muggle jeans, and an equally tattered dragon-hide jacket. "Boys," he smiled – something Remus had not expected – and motioned at three chairs positioned in front of the desk. "Sit."

Behind him, Sirius and James exchanged a glance, before slipping into the seats on either side of Remus.

"I must say, I should have expected worse than what you put me through this afternoon," He was still smiling, something Remus took as uncannily good fortune, "Especially after that bald-faced lie I threw at you the other day," This seemed to be directed at James and Sirius, who grinned. "Be that as it may, your actions were out of place, if somewhat amusing. You _will_ be serving a detention for me, so don't get too comfortable." He continued on, singing praises of their advanced spell work, having capably aimed their attack at the textbooks simultaneously, sending them ricocheting to the floor. "Where did you learn that spell, anyway, Remus?"

"Uh – Professor?" James had raised a hand, shooting him a confused look, "Lupin didn't actually have anything to do with it." He was pointing at Remus, in what the Gryffindor realized was an uncharacteristically charitable action – for which he was grateful.

"Lupin?" Belecost looked down at Remus as though seeing him for the first time, although he had been sitting directly in front of him. "Oh. Yes. Well, I had pegged Remus for being the one responsible for the planning –"

Now it was Sirius who interrupted, "No, that was James. It was _all_ his idea – "

"Yeah, well you're the one who actually _did_ it!" James glared accusingly over Remus at his friend, not wanting Sirius to get out of the detention.

The Professor looked down apologetically at his student, "I apologize, Remus. I seem to have underestimated Potter and Black. You're free to leave - unless of course, you'd be interested in helping your friends and I sort through a rather large box of contraband items which Apollyon Pringle left in his office." The previous school caretaker had retired over the summer, leaving the younger Argus Filch to take over the position. "He seemed to think it was something only a Dark Arts instructor could handle, although I'm convinced it's more along the lines of several fanged frisbees and some sort of charmed percolator." He paused, glancing into the box atop his desk, which Remus had failed to notice in his nervousness. "I think I'd better take a look at that one."

The Gryffindor paused to consider for a moment. Did he want to spend the rest of the evening with James and Sirius? As he deliberated, the pair jumped to their feet to dig eagerly into the box, James immediately asking how much they were allowed to keep.

"Reems!" He looked up at the sudden nickname, to see Sirius shifting over to the side of the box and motioning him over. "You going to check this out, mate, or what?"

Without a second thought, Remus moved over to Sirius to peer into the box. It was a veritable treasure trove of banned candy, joke items and wizarding toys.

"So," James was still pestering the Professor, now holding what looked like a handful of gobstones, "Do we get to keep any of it."

A smile twitched its way onto the corner of Belecost's mouth, as he examined the box offhandly, "You're in detention, remember? You're supposed to be sorting, not stealing." He moved away, the charmed percolator in hand, "However, I'll be all the way over here, back turned, partially deaf and happily working on other things."

Satisfied, James stuffed the gobstones into his pocket, and resumed digging through the box. "What's that you've got, Remus?"

Remus had pulled out the first thing he saw – a blank piece of parchment – it didn't seem to have any sort of interesting qualities, but once Sirius pulled it from his hands he found himself defensively pulling it back.

"Looks like one of those trick pages," Sirius commented, turning back to the box, "You know, you write on it and the words can only be read by someone with the right charm. Could be right useful for passing notes in Transfigurations. You can't get nothin' past McGonagall."

From the other side of the office, Belecost snorted, then said, "I hope you aren't planning anything devious. But since I can't hear you, I can't be blamed," and he pointedly ignored the sight of Remus folding the parchment up and carefully stowing it in his pocket.

Sirius chuckled, "S'all right, Professor. We'd never do anything in _your_ classes."

"Not anytime soon, anyway," Remus murmured, and Sirius only laughed harder, patting him on the back.

James grinned, but his attention was drawn back to Belecost's earlier comment. "Professor, why _did_ you lie about having been in the Forest anyway?"

Belecost looked up from the percolator, placing it down carefully on a side table, "I had hoped that by making it appear I had no interest in the Forest, you would assume that it wasn't worth the trouble. You boys remind me of myself when I was your age – can you believe I was the most mellow of the three of us?"

Remus smiled at this, considering himself to be the most mellow of the five Gryffindor first-years.

"You saw through me quite easily, I'm sure. I could tell once you two had left my office that I'd made a mistake. Really, now, the Forest is no place to be playing around. No one wants to have to send out a search party to find you three."

Remus reminded himself to ask what exactly Sirius and James had been doing – but not until they were back in the common room. For the time being, he simply pushed Sirius' elbow out of his way and happily dug in to Apollyon Pringle's box of contraband items.

Because who knew when a good fanged frisbee would come in handy?

xxxxx

_October 14__th__, 1970_Remus' dark quill flashed against the light color of the parchment. The already messy words were coming out crooked as he struggled to see what he was writing despite the lack of light.

Dear mum, and dad,

_It's been over a month since term started, and Hogwarts has to be the most amazing place I have ever been. Despite being here for weeks, I still haven't learned a quarter of what there is to know about the castle, and I'm beginning to wonder if there actually is anyone who does._A familiar prickling sensation had begun along the back of Remus' spine, and he began to write with more fervor, his letters looping in a frantic swirl and ink splotches appearing more rapidly on the page.

There are four other boys in Gryffindor, and I'm beginning to become good friends with each of them.

Peter Pettigrew is quite shy, but almost impossible to shut up once he gets going. I know he struggles sometimes with school work, so I do my best to help out when I can. He's become terribly fond of following me around between classes, but I don't mind, really.

Sirius Black is rather like a young Uncle Henri. He's just as bold, but probably a little bit more gifted. He has an infuriating habit of thinking only about his stomach, calling me "Reems", and falling asleep on the common room couch.

_You'd like Goodwin Perkins, he's an all around good egg. He's a big fan of Quidditch, even though neither Sirius nor I understand what he and James are talking about sometimes, and he's really good at all the schoolwork. Unfortunately, he's been missing a lot of class lately. It turns out that he's allergic to almost every thing. Milk, peanuts, shellfish, certain spices used in flavoring. All it takes is a little bit to land him in the hospital wing for a week._His hand was trembling now, and not just from the chill that had arisen as the long, October night began.

_James Potter is our fearless leader. He -- _

A choking sound rose up from his throat, to be followed shortly by a muscle spasm in his left arm.

_-- He comes up with some of the better ideas for entertainment. Although I'd be lying if I said they were _all _good. He's somehow managed to start up some sort of rivalry with one of the first-year girls. It's quite amusing to observe; yesterday she spelled his hair to stick up all over the place, and he's decided he likes it that way._He swallowed, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg.

The teachers are all very interesting, too. Our Head of House, Prof --

_-- Professor McGonagall is stern, but very fair. The Potions master doesn't even bother to hide the fact that he plays favorites, and the rest of the teachers are very helpful. One in particular, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Belecost has become a great favorite of ours. His classes never fail to be exciting, even when we're doing the simplest things._

A gasp cut through the silence of the rundown shack, and Remus, startled, realized it was his own, the pure aggression of the wolf forcing its way to the front of his mind. He had to fight it, had to keep writing.

_Both Sirius and James have taken to emulating him in every way they can. I'm surprised that they haven't sent out for dragon-hide jackets like the one the Professor wears when he's not teaching._

He even promised to --

The words trailed off, becoming nothing more than an illegible scribble crookedly scrawled across the bottom of the page. Remus had lost the ability to control the tremors in his hand, and he knew that somewhere far above moonrise had begun.

The transformation began in his face, with his jaw elongating painfully into the stretched snout of the wolf, his teeth widening and growing in his gums. The first few moments of conversion were always accompanied by his shouts of pain, growing louder with each passing second until they were cut off completely by the rapid change of the structure in his vocal chords.

It was a pained whimper which reverberated off of the walls of the shack as the transformation grew violent. His elbows and knees popped as they changed to the conformation of the wolf, a dense coat of fur growing across his body. His ears shrank into the side of his head, only to regrow several inches farther up into pointed, furry peaks.

A sharp howl ripped its way out of the creature's throat, and for a brief moment, a haunted look flashed through the golden-yellow eyes, only to be replaced by unhindered belligerence.

It threw itself against the thin walls of the building trapping it. The wood groaned under its weight, and the wolf snarled, eager to be boundless, to run free and prey uninhibited in the nearby forest. Again, it hurled itself at the wall. Nothing in the building was safe once it was set loose.

The letter, which Remus had so carefully penned, was trampled, torn to shreds under sharp nails. The flecks of parchment were unceremoniously loosed into the air as the wolf circled the room in a frenzy, creating a shower of white in the darkness.

There was no one to grieve – the wolf was free.

**Closing Comments:** That transformation was just for you, Strange Magic. Originally the chapter was going to have less of a span, but you wanted to see poor Reems battle his lycanthropy, so here it is!  
Some notes regarding the chapter - I named Irmina Wigworthy before I decided she'd have a flamboyant hair-do. Now that I think about it, it really seems to fit. Also, I mention that James, Remus and Sirius all have messy handwriting. Every one seems to like the idea of Reems being incredibly neat and what-not, so I'm single-handedly fighting back. See, I only know _one_ guy who has neat hand-writing – and Remus isn't him.  
I also unintentionally gave him a Dumbledore-influenced epiphany regarding his lycanthropy. This is because I don't really view Remus as the type to mope around feeling sorry for himself. Yes – he views it as a huge problem and what not, and doesn't want to burden anyone else with it. (But if you had to read the rest of this fic with him just wallowing in self pity, you'd get bored. So if that's what you're here for, I suggest you go find a one-shot about it or something.)  
Lastly, I'm trying valiantly to keep Lily in the story, but at this point it's rather difficult. I'll try to give her a cameo of some sort in as many chapters as possible – she's appeared in all four up to now, at least.


End file.
